The Pact Of Five

CHAPTER 2: THE FIRST BITE**

The car door *slams* shut.

I’m *trapped*.

Five alphas. One cage on wheels. And a *f*****g* problem.

Knox is *right* beside me, his dark eyes *black* with hunger, his scent—cedar and rain and *pure f*****g dominance*—filling my nose. It’s *intoxicating*. It’s *maddening*. It’s *pissing me off*.

Zane’s up front, his gray eyes *cold* as he barks orders into a phone. *"Get the *f**k* out of there. Now."* His voice is a dark command, sharp and *unyielding*. The kind of voice that makes you *obey* without thinking.

Jax is *laughing*, his gray eyes *wild*, his smirk *wicked*. *"Damn, brother. She’s *f*****g* perfect. Feisty as hell."*

Micah’s fingers *brush* against my knee again, his brown eyes *gleaming*, his voice a dark caress. *"And *tasty* too, I’d bet."*

Cole just *watches*, his green eyes *dark*, his posture *relaxed* but his gaze *sharp*. Like he’s *waiting* for something.

And Knox?

Knox is *staring* at me like I’m his *last meal*.

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"Stop *f*****g* looking at me like that."*

His smirk is *dark*, his voice a growl. *"Like *what*?"*

*"Like you *own* me."*

His dark eyes *burn* into mine, his voice a dark promise. *"I *do* own you, little omega. And I *don’t* share."*

I bare my teeth, my voice a snarl. *"f**k you."*

His hand *snaps* out, his fingers wrapping around my throat, his grip *tight*, *possessive*. His dark eyes are *black* with lust, his voice a growl. *"Make me."*

And then his mouth is on mine.

*Hard*. *Possessive*. *Hungry*.

His tongue *forces* its way past my lips, his teeth *nipping* at my bottom lip, his hand *tightening* around my throat. I *hate* it. I *love* it. I *want* it.

*Fuck.*

His other hand *slides* up my thigh, his fingers *digging* into my skin, his touch *burning* through the flimsy silk. The dress is *see-through*, and I *know*—I *know*—he can *feel* everything. The heat of my skin. The *dampness* between my thighs.

*Shit.*

I *jerk* back, my hand flying to his chest, my voice a snarl. *"Get the *f**k* off me, asshole!"*

He *laughs*, a dark, *wicked* sound that sends a *shiver* down my spine. *"Oh, little omega… we’re just getting *started*."*

And then he *shoves* me against the door, his body *pressing* against mine, his dark eyes *black* with lust. *"You *want* this. I can *smell* it."*

I bare my teeth, my voice a snarl. *"I *hate* you."*

His smirk widens, his voice a growl. *"No, you *don’t*."*

And then his mouth is on mine *again*—*harder* this time, *possessive*, *hungry*. His tongue *forces* its way past my lips, his teeth *nipping* at my bottom lip, his hand *tightening* around my throat.

I *hate* it.

I *love* it.

I *want* it.

*Fuck.*

His free hand *slides* up my body, his fingers *digging* into my hip, his touch *burning*. *"You’re *mine* now, omega. And I *don’t* share."*

I *knee* him in the balls.

*Hard.*

His dark eyes *widen*, his voice a *grunt*. *"f**k—"*

He *stumbles* back, his hand *leaving* my throat, his dark eyes *black* with *rage* and *lust*. *"You *b***h*—"*

I smirk, my voice a snarl. *"Told you I’d *bite your d**k off*."*

His laugh is *dark*, his voice a growl. *"Oh, little omega… you’re gonna *pay* for that."*

And then he *lunges*.

I *scream*, my hands *pushing* against his chest, my voice a snarl. *"Get the *f**k* off me—"*

But he’s *stronger*. *Faster*. *Hungrier*.

His mouth *crashes* onto mine, his tongue *forcing* its way past my lips, his teeth *nipping* at my bottom lip. His hand *slides* up my thigh, his fingers *digging* into my skin, his touch *burning*.

I *hate* it.

I *love* it.

I *want* it.

*Fuck.*

And then his fingers *brush* against my *p***y*, his touch *rough*, *possessive*. *"So *f*****g* wet, omega. Already *ready* for me?"*

I *jerk* back, my voice a snarl. *"f**k you."*

His dark eyes *burn* into mine, his voice a dark promise. *"Oh, we *will*, little omega. But first…"* His hand *tightens* around my throat, his grip *possessive*, his dark eyes *black* with lust. *"…you’re gonna *beg* for it."*

---

The car *lurches* to a stop, the engine *purring*. Zane’s voice is a dark command. *"We’re here."*

Knox *pulls* back, his dark eyes *black* with lust, his voice a growl. *"This isn’t *over*, omega."*

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"It *better* be."*

His smirk is *dark*, his voice a dark promise. *"Oh, little omega… it’s only just *begun*."*

The door *opens*, and the night air *hits* me, cool and *sharp*. I *stumble* out of the car, my legs *trembling*, my heart *pounding*.

And then I *see* it.

A *mansion*. Dark. *Foreboding*. The kind of place where *bad things* happen.

Knox’s hand *finds* mine, his grip *tight*, *possessive*. *"Welcome *home*, omega."*

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"This isn’t my *f*****g* home."*

His smirk widens, his dark eyes *black* with lust. *"It is *now*."*

---

The inside is *luxurious*—dark wood, black leather, the scent of *money* and *power*. But all I can focus on is *them*—the *five* alphas surrounding me, their dark eyes *burning*, their voices a low, hungry *growl*.

Zane steps forward, his gray eyes *cold*, his posture *rigid*. *"You’ll stay in the *west wing*."*

I bare my teeth, my voice a snarl. *"I’ll stay *where I want*."*

His gray eyes *flash*, his voice a dark command. *"You’ll stay where we *tell* you to stay."*

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"f**k you."*

Jax *laughs*, his gray eyes *wild*, his smirk *wicked*. *"Oh, sweet thing… you’re gonna *love* the west wing. It’s got a *big* bed… and *plenty* of room for *all* of us."*

Micah’s fingers *brush* against my waist, his touch *light*, *teasing*. *"And *plenty* of toys to *play* with."*

I *jerk* away, my voice a snarl. *"I’m not *playing* with *any* of you."*

Knox’s dark eyes *burn* into mine, his voice a dark promise. *"Oh, you *will*, little omega. And you’re gonna *beg* for more."*

Cole steps forward, his green eyes *dark*, his voice a dark command. *"Enough. She’s *tired*."*

Knox’s dark eyes *flicker* to him, his voice a growl. *"She’s *not* tired. She’s *fighting*."*

Cole’s green eyes *flash*, his voice a dark promise. *"And she’s *ours* to *protect*."*

Knox’s smirk is *dark*, his voice a growl. *"And *f**k*."*

---

Zane leads the way up the stairs, his gray eyes *cold*, his posture *rigid*. The hallway is *long*, the carpet *soft* under my feet. But all I can focus on is the *tension*—thick, *heavy*, *electric*.

Jax walks beside me, his gray eyes *wild*, his smirk *wicked*. *"You know, little omega… you’re the first *thing* we’ve all *agreed* on in *years*."*

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"And what’s that?"*

His smirk widens, his voice a dark caress. *"That we *all* want a taste."*

Micah’s laugh is *dark*, his brown eyes *gleaming*. *"And we’re *gonna* get one."*

Knox’s dark eyes *burn* into mine, his voice a dark promise. *"Starting *tonight*."*

I bare my teeth, my voice a snarl. *"In your *f*****g* dreams."*

His smirk is *dark*, his voice a growl. *"Oh, little omega…"* His hand *slides* around my waist, his grip *tight*, *possessive*. *"…you’re *living* in them."*

---

The room is *huge*—a *bed* big enough for *all* of them, a *fireplace* roaring, the scent of *cedar* and *leather* filling the air.

Zane’s voice is a dark command. *"This is your room. *For now*."*

I glare at him, my voice a snarl. *"And where the *f**k* am I supposed to *sleep*?"*

His gray eyes *flash*, his voice a dark promise. *"Wherever we *put* you."*

Knox’s dark eyes *burn* into mine, his voice a growl. *"And tonight…"* His hand *slides* up my thigh, his fingers *digging* into my skin, his touch *burning*. *"…we’re putting you *under* us."*

I bare my teeth, my voice a snarl. *"Try it, asshole."*

His smirk is *dark*, his voice a dark promise. *"Oh, we *will*, little omega."* His hand *tightens* around my throat, his grip *possessive*, his dark eyes *black* with lust. *"And you’re gonna *love* every *f*****g* second of it."*

---

And then the door *clicks* shut.

And I’m *alone*.

*Finally.*

I *sag* against the wall, my breath *raging*, my heart *pounding*.

*Fuck.*

*f**k, f**k, fuck.*

I *hate* them.

I *want* them.

I’m *f****d*.

But as I look around the room—the *bed*, the *fireplace*, the *darkness*—I realize something.

This isn’t just a *room*.

It’s a *trap*.

And I’m the *prey*.

**END OF CHAPTER 2**